All Hallow's Concert
by Precambrian Studios
Summary: This quick story about Trent and Monique is a tribute to renowned Daria fan-artist BloodyWilliam, who was nice enough to draw some of my characters, who all look amazing.


Jane knocked on Trent's door. "Trent! Come on, you're going to be late for your gig!"

Trent opened the door, and Jane suppressed a laugh. "Oh wow. Trent, did you lose a bet?"

Trent ran his fingers through his newly dyed orange hair, careful not to get to get any of it on his midnight black robes. "No, Janey. It's Halloween."

She rolled her eyes. "I know that, why do you think I look like this?"

Trent looked his sister up and down; she had dyed her hair blue, and was wearing a long yellow rain-coat, blue jeans, and rain-boots. "Um, I thought you were going to Comic-Con."

"Trent, that's in San Diego."

"Oh. I thought it moved every year."

Jane checked her watch and jumped. "Woah! If we don't leave now, we're going to have start running stop-signs to get there on time."

"All right," Trent said. He grabbed his guitar-case. "Let's go."

They ran down the stairs. As Jane unlocked the door, Trent swore. "Dammit, I forgot something!" He set his guitar-case down and ran back up the stairs.

"Whatcha forget?" Jane called.

"Something important!" Trent yelled back.

Jane tapped her foot impatiently. _Monique is going to kill him if we're late._

Trent flew down the stairs, holding a plastic broadsword. "Are you kidding me?!" Jane cried.

"Come on, let's go," Trent said.

They rushed into the Tank. Trent turned the key, but the engine sputtered instead of purring. "Dammit," Trent swore. "Come on, come on." He slapped the dashboard. The engine revved up, much to the surprise of the two lanes. Trent decided to count his blessings later, and immediately sped toward the Zon.

XXXX

Trent had practically jumped out of the van before it had stopped moving. He rushed through the overcrowded Zon parking lot, burst through the rear entrance, and slipped backstage. The room was empty, apart from a woman in a red halter-top with a massive yellow sun-hat, tight blue jeans, and cowboy boots. Her skin had been painted entirely green. _She must have had a couple drinks, she shouldn't be back here_, Trent thought.

He went up to her and tapped her shoulder. "Hey, uh, this for band-members only, so WOAH!"

The woman turned around. It was Monique.

"Hey, baby," she said, smiling. "Whatcha think?"

Now that he knew it was her, Trent looked her up and down again, trying to not look like he was ogling, which he was. "Woah, I-wow. You look good."

"So do you, Mr. Kurosaki." She laughed. "Is that your bathrobe?"

Trent nodded meekly.

"Don't feel bad," Monique said. She lifted one leg up. "I bought these boots from a 7-Eleven last year in New Mexico. They hurt like hell."

"Well, at least you won't have to fake looking tortured this time around."

Monique laughed. "Yeah, you're right." She put her arms around Trent's neck. "So, you ready to shred?"

He looked down. "I don't know Monique. It's a new robe."

She arched an eyebrow. "I mean onstage."

"Oh. Yeah, sure."

"Good. Get your guitar, get onstage, and don't screw up, because then I'll have to drink your blood afterwards."

Trent gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Wouldn't dream of it."

XXXX

"You think they're late?" Monique's lead drummer, dressed in a blood-red tuxedo, whispered to Jesse, who was dressed as Michael Myers (Shatner mask and all).

"Trent probably went to puke or something, he does it before every performance."

"No kidding?"

"Nope. Oh, here they are."

Monique and Trent climbed onstage. Monique took the mic and yelled, "Good All Hallows Eve ZOOOON! How are you all doing tonight?" There were many cheers. "Great! Man, you guys look more wasted than that guy!" There were laughs as everyone glanced at Darth Vader, who had slumped to the floor in the corner of the building, booze dribbling down his mouth-piece.

"Anyhow," Monique said, "This is the third collaboration between the Harpies and Mystik Spiral, headed by my best man Trent! Give it up for him!"

Trent raised a fist into the air as the crowd chanted his name.

"Anything you want to say, Trent?" Monique asked.

Trent took the mic and said, "Well, we have decided not to change our name." Even louder cheers.

"Well, that's great. So, before we get into the stuff about bloodlust and death, we're going to play one of my favorites, with me on lead vocals, Trent on lead guitar, Liz Araz on drums."

The lights inside the Zon began to dim. Red and orange floodlights barely illuminated the stage. Monique softly sang,

_You said - oh girl, it's a cold world  
When you keep it all to yourself  
I said you can't hide on the inside  
All the pain you've ever felt _

Then, she upped the volume and tempo.

_You can cry tough baby, it's all right  
You can let me down easy, but not tonight _

Then the lights glared more brightly, and Monique now shouted into the microphone, while Trent and Liz played more intensely.

_We're running with the Shadows of the Night  
So baby take my hand, you'll be all right  
Surrender all your dreams to me tonight  
They'll come true in the end _

The crowd cheered the trio on, which brought smiles to their faces.

In the back, Daria (who wore a blue shirt with a bright yellow and red 'S' under her jacket) said to Jane, "For once, they sound pretty good."

"Anything's possible when you don't want to screw up in front of a bunch of people and you look like that."

"True, quite true."

The cover finished. Trent, Liz, and Monique took their bows. Trent and Monique joined hands.


End file.
